


The Spinner & The Mermaid, Part III

by Maplesyrup



Series: The Mermaid 'Verse [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Belle - Freeform, F/M, Fantasy, Mermaid Belle, Mermaids, Spinner Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Spinner!Rumple, mermaid au, mermaid!Belle, spinner rumple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 14:19:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6707659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maplesyrup/pseuds/Maplesyrup





	The Spinner & The Mermaid, Part III

_As I went down in the river to pray_  
_Studying about that good ol' way_  
_And who shall wear the robe & crown?_  
_Good Lord show me the way_  
_O brothers let's go down_  
_Let's go down, come on down_  
_Come on brothers, let's go down_  
_Down in the river to pray  
_ _-Alison Kraus_

 

 

The Spinner clutched a small, golden-hued shell in his hand as he and the Captain made their way up the steps of the Governor’s mansion.

When he’d left the boat and checked the edge of the dock, he’d half expected the coin to still be sitting there, a lonely talisman waiting to be picked up by his mermaid. To see the small shell in its place made his heart swell with hope and longing.

He slipped it into the breast pocket of his vest, one corner of his mouth curling in a secret smile as he walked. She’d understood, then, and he would see her again.

His cane garnered him much attention at the ball, both for the craftsmanship of the piece and the story the Captain delighted in telling. To hear him say it, the Spinner had single-handedly saved his crew from drowning in the squall.

He was flushed with embarrassment, and tried in vain to stem the Captain’s words and tell the truth, but the Captain wasn’t to be put off. A small cluster of folk had gathered around them, mostly women, and he felt a small hand touch his arm in an attempt to lure him into conversation. The woman to his side was attractive enough and by all accounts quite wealthy and well-connected. He saw the Captain give him a wink and move off with the Governor and it dawned on him; this young woman was the Governor’s youngest daughter, and he was being quite _paired off_.

She fluttered a fan in front of her face, and he caught the scent of her perfume. Nice enough, but it didn’t tempt him. Her hair shone in the candlelight, but it was the wrong color. A lovely shade of red, to be sure, with a fine pair of green eyes to match, but it wasn’t _her_. The smile she gave him was cloying and edging on false, not open and sweet with wonder.

He tried to shake himself, to enjoy the ball and the people dancing, and tell himself that this was right and proper. To make a good match, to settle down, to retire his commission with the blessing, and land parcel, from his Majesty and build a family of his own.

Most men would see that as a natural part of their future, to build their legacy, but the Spinner felt somehow _separate_ from it all. His first wife ripped possibility from him before he’d even begun to dream, and while he’d found a home among his fellow sailors, it wasn’t a path that he’d originally wanted. 

Still, he was truly grateful for them, and he tried to feel grateful for the woman next to him, despite that he could tell her interest in him wasn’t as pure as one would wish in a potential mate, but it made him agitated.

The feeling stuck in his chest, like a poisoned knife lodged behind his ribs. Marriage wasn’t what alarmed him. He’d done it once, for better or worse. Spending his days, and fortune, on someone who viewed him with calculating eyes, assessing him for value and using him as a rung on the social ladder made the wings of panic beat around his heart.

Marriage to him meant something else entirely now, and his visions were full of bright, inquisitive blue eyes, warm lips on his to chase away the cold of the sea, a small child wading in the surf into the arms of her mother, a glistening tail curving around their little one protectively—

He mentally shook himself, cross with his foolish thoughts. He’d already admitted to himself that he was falling in love with his mermaid, but knew she was not for him despite the pain it caused to know this. She was mystical, the stuff of legends, and as much as he could physically touch her, she was still a fantasy. Any greater attachment between them must mean taking her from her home. He couldn’t do that, even if he somehow found a way.

So, he was supposed to dance with the Governor’s youngest daughter, to flirt with her, to start the courtship process there, at that ball, and when an appropriate amount of time passed, ask for her hand. They’d marry, hopefully taking a house by the sea unless she was too social to stand it, and then they’d be in a well-appointed townhouse where she’d be able to see all her friends.

Maybe a child would result from their union, and perhaps he could take comfort in that. If he couldn’t pursue the life, the _love_ , he truly wanted, he’d content himself with a child and they would be his world. 

He saw his future stretched out before him, bleak and grey, and dread shot through him like spilled ink over parchment. He felt ill. 

The woman next to him must have noticed, for she made an offhand remark as to his pallor, and he pounced on the excuse to take some air. She made to come with him, but was easily dissuaded as he gently begged her to enjoy the party. He merely needed to clear his lungs. 

It was a damn lie. He turned and bolted out of the ballroom as fast as his still-healing ankle would allow and didn’t stop until he was back on the street in front of the large coastal mansion, leaning over to brace his hands on his knees and draw in deep lungfuls of cool sea air. He stayed that way until he was certain he wouldn’t vomit and when he lifted himself upright again, he stared out over the bay, watching the gentle white foam crest the top of the night waves. He let the familiar sight soothe him and decided to walk through town.

There’d be some hell to pay on the morrow for his abrupt departure, but he cared not at that moment. 

It wasn’t too late yet for all the lights to be out, and he saw several warmly-lit windows and even glanced a few smaller gatherings inside a cheerful-looking pub. Though not as grand as the ballroom and house he’d just vacated, there was an air of honest enjoyment emanating from the open windows; someone was playing a violin and he saw a few couples dancing merrily to the tune.

He stopped, watching for a brief moment before deciding to join them.

Pulling open the door, he was met with a few curious glances, the patrons noting his formal attire. He almost backed out in embarrassment when he heard friendly shouts of surprised welcome come from a corner table, and saw a handful of men from his crew gathered with several glasses of ale between them.

They waved him over and he went willingly, smiling at the warm welcome. Several strong hands clapped him on the shoulder and a voice called out for an ale for their Spinner. A large, foaming mug was plunked down in front of him by a buxom young woman, who gave him a wink and a saucy grin when he shyly gave her his thanks. 

His crew wasted no time in asking about the ball, about what had brought him from a fancy party all the way to their fine establishment, and mostly, about the women he’d seen. 

He was at a loss. How to explain to them he’d seen his future in a pair of calculating green eyes and been brought to illness by it? He decided to hide in plain sight, and teasingly said that, aye, fair maidens abound at the Governor’s gathering, but alas, his heart was stolen by the shy mermaid who rescued him from drowning. 

All the men guffawed, except one, a muscular, dark-haired sailor who stared at the Spinner curiously as he took a healthy swig from his mug. The mug gave a dull _clunk_ as he set it down, wiping foam from his clean-shaven upper lip.

The Spinner noticed his gaze and swallowed a sip from his own mug distractedly. Why was the sailor looking at him like that? It wasn’t a hostile look, just…curious, as if he knew a secret and was trying to see if the Spinner knew it, too.

The brawny mariner drained the rest of his drink and stood, giving a bawdy reference to his need for a latrine. The men around him grunted in acknowledgement but otherwise paid him no great heed as they ribbed one another. He made his way to the door and the Spinner watched his progress, instinctively feeling that he would soon follow the man.

He was correct.

Once he reached the door, the sailor turned back, catching the Spinner’s eye and giving a slight jerk of his head. The Spinner got up without a second thought and followed him out. His companions at the table hardly noticed. 

Both men exited into the rapidly cooling night and regarded each other for a moment before speaking. The sailor spoke first.

“You’ve seen one.”

It wasn’t a question. The Spinner misunderstood for the briefest second before he realized. The sailor was talking about _her._

He nodded warily, uncertain in the moment if the sailor meant to ridicule him or commiserate with him, but the sailor just nodded, turning to look out towards the ocean.

“As have I.”

The shock of it nearly set the Spinner off his feet. He wasn’t quite sure he’d heard correctly and asked the sailor to repeat it. He did and the Spinner was gobsmacked.

Questions bolted around in his head like a startled school of fish. He didn’t know what to ask first, but he was beaten to it. The sailor turned back to look him square in the eye and asked one thing: was the Spinner in love with the creature he saw? 

He didn’t hesitate to answer for he was as certain of that as he was that the moon pulled the tides.

“Yes.” 

The sailor’s gaze searched the Spinner’s for a moment. He held his breath, waiting for the taller man to give him…something. He wasn’t sure what, but his gut was screaming to wait for whatever it was the sailor had to impart. 

His ersatz companion took a deep breath and released it in a long sigh that hinted at internal suffering. He pulled a pipe from his back pocket and lit the small patch of tobacco inside. Taking a draw of the pipe, he blew the smoke out in a blue stream that dissipated gently into the cold night air. He offered the pipe to the Spinner, who declined. Taking another deep drag with an accompanying shrug, he spoke through the smoke that tumbled from his mouth and nose.

“What would you do to keep her?”


End file.
